


The Death Surgeon

by VampireBait



Category: L.A. By Night (Web Series), Vampire: The Masquerade
Genre: One-Shot, Other, Salubri, Tremere - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:47:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28261890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VampireBait/pseuds/VampireBait
Summary: A Tremere walks into the haven of a Salubri. the Death surgeon heals and Eva so desperately needs healing.
Relationships: Eva/The Death Surgeon
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8





	The Death Surgeon

**Author's Note:**

> After the one-shot introduction of The Death Surgeon salubri character in the Marathon streaming weekend, I couldn't get the idea of Eva and The death surgeon ever meeting out of my head. The two characters are so incredible in their own way and with the incredible way Josephine Mcadam plays them both it's almost a shame this will never happen 9at least not without giving her a huge headache). 
> 
> So this is just a small ficlet, set in this mysterious time where Eva is off who knows where in the hope that she might stumble across a kindly salubri.
> 
> If you haven't yet caught up with the streams on world of darkness Twitch and Youtube i highly recommend it.

The Death Surgeon bit the bottom of their lip in troubled thought. Before them in the sanctity of their haven, stood a Tremere. A blood witch, and a powerful one at that, if they could trust their own sense of such things. 

The Nosferatu, were careful to avoid bringing ones such as these, unless the individual were already in torpor, or hurt beyond the ability to pose a threat to the Surgeon. The Death Surgeon would never turn away any Kindred in need of course, but they still had to be wary. There was a reason few Salubri walked the earth in these nights and the blood witches were chief of those responsible.

Pre-warned, The Death Surgeon had roused their blood and called forth a cloak of shadows to conceal themselves, as the patient was brought in. Satisfied, that even the heightened senses of the newcomer could not piece the veil that shrouded them from sight, The Death surgeon took their time warring against their need to help a clearly troubled soul, and the beast that urged them to flee and leave her to her fate.

The first sight of this enemy had been the cause of their hesitation on the latter need. Seeing them enter apparently hail and whole should have been enough to send The Surgeon far from this place perhaps never to return again, but the extraordinary appearance had held them like a Toreador caught in their own reflection.

The door had opened and a creature, vibrant and ethereal, draped in red atop palest pure moonlight had stepped in from the night. 

It had taken a moment for The Death surgeon to blink away the sudden romantic verses from their mind, to see the creature for what she actually was. 

A petite young woman, clearly a beauty in life and death, wearing a simple red top and white ankle length skirt, a top astonishingly pale alabaster skin. Her long white hair cascaded freely across her shoulders, crowned with pearls and flowers that covered her forehead, so that, for a moment, the surgeon touched the cowl concealed third eye on their own and felt their undead heart start in the hope that she might be one of their own.

Foolishness.

They shook their head to banish the thought and the strange fascination that clouded their head, as the kindred woman stepped tentatively into the haven. 

Her eyes quickly scanned the area, taking it in the way an animal expecting a trap might. She kept one hand on the open door, the other raised, claw like, infront of her. For one fanciful moment, the Surgeon swore they saw a blue spark dance across those fingers. 

Curiosity about this Tremere was coming dangerously close to overriding the wisdom of self-preservation.

At last she allowed the door to close slowly behind her. Though her posture was still far from relaxed. 

Gently, taking a risk that perhaps was not wise just yet, the hidden Salubri allowed some of their calming gifts to drift out from them. Unseen, they swept like vapours towards the kindred woman. A moment, then another, before her shoulders relaxed just a bit. 

To The Surgeon’s surprise, the kindred turned her gaze sharply on to them despite the cloak of shadows.

“Please…don’t ever do that without my permission.” Her voice, as beautiful as her unearthly self, trembled with emotion. Some deep despair, at war with the calmness The Surgeon had intended. 

Mortified at causing some unimagined harm The surgeon stepped out from the shadows hands raised in clear open indication of peace.

“Oh my dear, please forgive me, I did not intend harm.”

The Blood witch took a step back towards the door, hands raised again. 

A spark, unmistakable this time, flashed and crackled at her fingers. 

The Surgeon nodded respectfully and took their own step back hands raised higher trying to convey their sincerity through their eyes and manner in the hopes the witch would believe them.

“It is in my nature to try and calm a desperate soul. I only meant to sooth your fears and perhaps quell any need you might have to attack out of fear, where I am only here to help.” 

The Tremere eyed them warily.

“You sought me out, Oui? The Nosferatu would not have brought you without knowing you had a great need. Will you not let me help?”

Silence stretched between them. The young kindred looked once at the door perhaps regretting that she had come at all, perhaps wondering if she was even free to leave if she even chose. 

The Surgeon tried once more, their undead heart aching more and more for the mistreated creature. 

“I swear to you, no gift of mine will I use against you, or in need, without your knowledge and consent. Please, accept my sincerest apology and allow us to start again. I am called the Death Surgeon. Will you allow me to know your name?”

A beat, another calculating glance at the door, before the air filled with music as she uttered her name. “Eva.”

A single word, as beautiful as the rest of her. The Death surgeon was not sure what expression they wore at the sound of it, if their eyes betrayed their wonder Eva noticed it enough to finally lower her hands and relax her posture from one ready to flee to a more comfortable stance.

“You do not seem hurt, at least outwardly, Eva.” The Surgeon smiled inwardly like a child as the name fell from their own lips. 

“Yet you are here…please, will you let me help you?”

Eva hesitated. A storm was in her chest, a raging maelstrom of fury, disgust, despair, heart break and so much pain. She felt as though she would scream and break into a thousand pieces. Her past, her present, Jasper…Katya…Strauss. 

She looked on this stranger, this beautiful mysterious stranger who might be her salvation and bone deep exhaustion dropped her guard. 

Before she knew what she was doing a step took her closer to them, then another.

The mysterious Kindred, the Death Surgeon, stood deliberately still. A rabbit, seeing the wolf approach and knowing a sudden movement might be it’s end. As though in a dream Eva found herself toe to toe with them, a distant part of her surprised to find they were of a size, a rare thing in itself. The world around them seemed to hold it’s breath as Eva reached up a pale hand and slowly lifted the edge of the soft grey cowl. 

The Death Surgeon should have fled, should have stopped her, but something held them back. Compassion, empathy, the need to help. It might have been anyone or all of those. They’d done for others of their kind in the past and would no doubt in the future. But it might also have been the scent of flowers that came with Eva as she came close. The fae like beauty, cold and broken with despair of her eyes, sapphires touched with crimson as blood tears began to fall.

The Surgeon knew what Eva would see. 

They caught her in their arms as her legs gave way and she fell against them with a wrenching sob of relief. The two kindred dropped to the floor together. 

A Salubri cradling a weeping Tremere.

The Death Surgeon felt their own tears fall, crimson droplets shockingly bright as they fell against the pure white of Eva’s skin.

“I will do whatever is needed to help you Eva.” The Death Surgeon whispered, and was heard. A promise made and they didn’t know if it was the last they would ever make. 

If it was…they were content.


End file.
